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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27986472">Ohio 1967</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisechase/pseuds/wisechase'>wisechase</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Queen's Gambit (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:41:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,907</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27986472</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisechase/pseuds/wisechase</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This is Beth realizing that maybe her infatuation with her rival, Benny Watts, isn’t only confined to chess.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Beth Harmon/Benny Watts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>267</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ohio 1967</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Basically I’m filling out the Ohio U.S. Championship with an extra plot that takes place around the scenes in the canon. I haven’t written out the canon scenes that take place between my original scenes to eliminate redundancy but there’s context clues to keep you oriented! I swear it’s not confusing! </p><p>Mostly canon compliant but it’s probably not seamless. Shouldn’t feel like it changes the direction of the show/their relationship though.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The matches on day two of the 1967 U.S. National Chess Championship had just finished. Well, all of Beth’s matches had. Most of the others were still playing.</p><p> </p><p>Beth <em> should </em> say that she felt mentally exhausted or at least a tad tired after a second full day of competition. You know, to be polite. But Beth was one of those rare creatures who always preferred the truth over that veil cast by politeness and pleasantries. And in all honesty, she was restless and quite bored. </p><p> </p><p>The same could not be said for her opponents, who walked out of the dim lecture hall and stumbled in the bright sunlight. Discombobulated and dazed. Reeking of failure. She scrunched her nose at it as she exited the building, equipped with her sharp sunglasses and a spring in her step. </p><p> </p><p>The way some of these men played was embarrassing to her. Best in the country? Really? </p><p> </p><p>Her defeat over each and every one of them had been finite from the first move. They didn’t even appear to put up a fight, though they probably thought they did. She beat them all mercilessly, regardless. That was just her nature. Winning was one of Beth’s favorite things. Right up there with her green pills and a frosty Gibson. </p><p> </p><p>But deep down she wished for a <em> hint </em> of a challenge. Just from one of them. Not that she wanted to lose, <em> hell no </em>. Beth just wanted to feel like she really fought for it, earned it. </p><p> </p><p>Winning begins to lose its charm when it comes this easily. She still enjoyed it, of course, but it just wasn’t as <em> special </em>. She wanted to use some actual skill. </p><p> </p><p>A difficult win was always the most delicious kind. It was a win that could be savored, to look back on again and again. It made her really <em> feel </em> something. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Pride. Satisfaction. Pure electricity.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Beating Benny Watts would be one of those wins for Beth. The idea of that win is what made the whole lame tournament worth her while. It’s what got her through the past two days of dull, uninspiring matches. She didn’t need to be U.S. champion again to start playing abroad. She was already booked in Paris, for God’s sake. But she <em> needed </em> to beat Benny Watts. </p><p> </p><p>To prove that she could. To herself. To <em> him </em>. </p><p> </p><p>Beth was going to wipe that cocky grin off that fucking pirate’s face if it was the last thing she did. </p><p> </p><p><em> Who did he think he was? </em> Bringing up her loss against Borgov yesterday like that. She didn’t need to be made a fool of on <em> and </em> off the board.</p><p> </p><p>And then <em> pretending </em> to empathize with her. It was so transparent. He was trying to psych her out, and it wasn’t going to work. Saying shit like <em> I know that feeling. Helpless. It all goes and you just push wood. </em></p><p> </p><p>All the while, breathing down her neck from under that ridiculous hat. As if he’d never lost a game in his life. It made her sick. </p><p> </p><p>She knew he <em> had </em> lost before. Like in Russia. But she’d never had the pleasure of witnessing the phenomenon herself. And Beth didn’t just want to witness the defeat, she wanted to be responsible.</p><p> </p><p>She just had to be the one to destroy Benny Watts. </p><p> </p><p>But, like, in a fun way.</p><p> </p><p>She didn’t want to make him cry, that would just be awkward. Or storm away, that wouldn’t be fun for her at all.</p><p> </p><p>(She still felt foolish for her quick retreat in Las Vegas, afterall. It was rude. And immature.</p><p> </p><p><em> I’ll make a point to apologize for that </em> , she thought. <em> AFTER I win. </em>)</p><p> </p><p>Beth just wanted to rile him up a bit. Make his cheeks redden and his palms itch. See that cool look of composure just melt off his face. She wanted to swim in that look of terror in eyes when he realized he was a goner. </p><p> </p><p>Was that too much to ask for?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Really? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Beth didn’t think so. She found it quite reasonable and perfectly attainable. </p><p> </p><p>Their match was still two days away. That was plenty of time for Beth to prepare. Maybe she’d stop at the bookstore on her walk back to the dorms just to see if they had any chess biographies… </p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>The redhead had been studying in her room for hours. Beth had gone over all her games from that morning and even made a dent in the Morphy book Harry had given her. Then she took a long shower, just because she could. And because there was nothing better to do. </p><p> </p><p>One of the (only) perks of being the lone girl in a man’s world: the bathrooms. All the players in the tournament were housed on the first few floors of a dormitory. One men’s room and one women’s room per floor. With gang showers! What a nightmare.</p><p> </p><p>This is all to say that while all the boys were crammed in and sharing, Beth was utterly alone. Just as she liked it. With a huge bathroom meant for an entire floor of girls all to herself.</p><p> </p><p>So she carried a wide variety of belongings from her trunk down the hall (past the prying of eyes of geeky guys behind simple chess configurations) and into her very own bathroom. Beth hung her clothes on the stalls and set the rest of her things down on one the wide window sills. </p><p> </p><p>She showered until the whole bathroom fogged up. Then she wrapped herself in a towel and perched herself on a window sill. In her hands was <em> Openings &amp; Tactics </em>. </p><p> </p><p>Beth smoothed her hand over the cover. There he was in black and white, Benny Watts. One of the two players to ever beat her. She flicked his stupid picture because of that god awful expression on his face. It was so moody and dramatic and shallow and so <em> Benny </em>. </p><p> </p><p><em> Ugh </em>. </p><p> </p><p>Nevertheless, she dragged her eyes away from the portrait and cracked the book to chapter one. If she was going to beat Benny she needed to get inside his head.</p><p> </p><p>No, no, no. Scratch that. No ‘if’s’ this time. <em> When </em> she beat Benny Watts. Beth smiled to herself. Just the thought of beating him was pleasurable. She reached for a cigarette in her bag and lit it, taking a long drag. <em> Yeah </em> , she thought. <em> You’re going down, Watts. No if’s.  </em></p><p> </p><p>A few chapters and a few cigarettes later, Beth closed the book and her eyes. This wasn’t working. She knew all of this already, and she knew she wanted to open with the Sicilian. </p><p> </p><p>Besides an insight into just how narcissistic chess can be, the book wasn’t helping Beth get any closer to getting in his head than an hour ago.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe that was it. Maybe she needed to <em> get in his head </em> . Not to understand him, <em> no </em>. Maybe Beth just needed to psych him out a little.</p><p> </p><p>He’d done it to her in Vegas, afterall. </p><p> </p><p>Yes! Finally an opening tactic she felt good about. She jumped up and looked in the mirror at the work she had to do. If she was going to do this, she was going to look good. With her blow dryer and round brush in hand, she set to work. </p><p> </p><p>Beth applied some light makeup for a delicate look and put on a simple outfit. Tapered black pants, a white turtleneck, and a cozy beige cardigan. She wanted to look good, but not like she was trying to. Effortless, that was her goal. </p><p> </p><p>And now that she had achieved it, it was time to go down to the <em> very public </em> common room on the ground floor. She dropped her things in her room and headed down, a skip in her step.</p><p> </p><p>Beth didn’t <em> need </em> to psych Benny out to beat him. She was a different player than she was in Las Vegas. A better one. But it was just too much fun not to. So she found an open couch in the back of the room and pulled out <em> Openings &amp; Tactics </em>. </p><p> </p><p>She tucked her legs up under her on her right, in a demure fashion. By the way all the boys on her floor stared at her as she walked down, she decided to give Benny one hour to approach her here. She was sure word would get around (and it helped that she made sure to make a show of reading his book down the hall so all her fellow chess players could see). </p><p> </p><p>She couldn’t help the devilish smile that spread across her lips. Benny’s ego wouldn’t be able to resist another player reading his book. A chance to talk about himself. </p><p> </p><p>Well, Beth was going to humble him. Not in a cruel way, but just enough to drive him a little mad. </p><p> </p><p>She tried to keep her eyes on the pages, but she couldn’t help looking around to <em> make sure </em> people were looking at her. Usually she liked to blend into the background, but not tonight. She made sure to keep a pleasant, thoughtful expression on her face. And place her chin on her small fist just <em> so </em>. </p><p> </p><p>But before she had to adjust her hair for a third time, a voice interrupted her. </p><p> </p><p>“Beth Harmon. I heard a rumor you were here.”</p><p> </p><p>She looked up at him over her book. <em> Perfect </em>, she thought. </p><p> </p><p>“Benny Watts.” She retorted, looking back down at the page and pretending to read. “I’m very busy at the moment.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can see that.” He said slowly as he sat down on her left. Close. Too close. Her knees were nearly touching his right thigh.</p><p> </p><p>“Who’s spreading rumors about me?” She asked to distract herself from their proximity and his unnerving eye contact. </p><p> </p><p>“Just some of the boys.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah. I don’t know any of ‘the boys.’ Just me and my books.” Beth tapped a long finger on the open page. “Besides, you’re the only one here who <em> dares </em> to speak to me around here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well I’ll let you in on a secret, kid.” Benny leaned in close to her then, Beth’s breath caught in her throat. “Most of the male chess demographic isn’t exactly known for their skills with women.”</p><p> </p><p>She let her breath out in a huff then and looked at him with a deadpan expression. “I’m just a player. Same as them. I don’t see a difference.”</p><p> </p><p>“Let me put it this way. They’re scared of you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Scared of what? That I'm going to beat them? You beat them and they’re not scared of you.” She was annoyed now. This isn’t how she wanted this interaction to go.</p><p> </p><p>“Listen to me. They’re scared of you <em> because </em> you’re a girl.” He was grinning slightly. <em> Why was this so amusing to him?  </em></p><p> </p><p>“Well it’s not important to the game. I wish they’d just forget about it.” </p><p> </p><p>His eyes scanned over her quickly. Up, down, and back up. It was just for an instant, but she didn’t miss it. “None of us can forget about it, Harmon.”</p><p> </p><p>Benny looked away quickly then as if he had misspoke but it was too late to fix it. He scratched the back of neck in an almost awkward way, it was very unlike him. </p><p> </p><p>Beth didn’t say anything, she was momentarily silenced by her pressing thoughts. <em> Us? Did he just say ‘us’? First person possessive? Himself included? </em> It seemed that getting inside Benny Watts’ head was easier than Beth thought. <em> Perfect </em>.</p><p> </p><p>Benny coughed slightly and tried to recover. “Besides, the boys <em> do </em> speak to you sometimes. You just don’t listen. Except me, I guess. But I’m <em> me </em>.”</p><p> </p><p><em> And back to being his usual conceited self, </em> she thought.</p><p> </p><p>“I <em> hear </em> you, Watts. That doesn’t necessarily mean I’m <em> listening </em>.” She rolled her eyes and looked back at the book. </p><p> </p><p>“Then what do you got there? Hmm?” Benny said, pointing at the book with his face on it.</p><p> </p><p>“Just some light reading.” Beth smiled wickedly.</p><p> </p><p>“Light? <em> Light </em>? Ouch, Harmon. I poured my heart and soul into those pages.” He put his hand over his heart and gave her a feigned frown.</p><p> </p><p>“Is that why it’s so thin? Really quite a quick read if I’m being honest…” She flipped through the pages absentmindedly. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh come on, you’re bending my spine.” He was reaching for the book now, but Beth held it over her head with a laugh. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> You’re spine </em>. It’s a few pieces of paper, Watts. You’re a new level of ridiculous.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re the one out here making a show of reading my book.” He reached up, trying to grab it. </p><p> </p><p>“A show?” She questioned, acting shocked and lowering the book to her lap. <em> Shit. She was caught. </em></p><p> </p><p>But Beth could play this play off, she just had to redirect the conversation. </p><p> </p><p>“I think that’s just in your imagination. If you’d like a show I know I saw a cowboy walking around with a knife on his hip somewhere around here…” </p><p> </p><p>Beth looked around innocently before reaching her right arm across him to point at the blade. Nearly touching it where it rested on his thigh. It was risky, how close she was to him. She felt like she could hear his heartbeat. But perhaps that was her own, because it was more like a pounding. But the whole point was to get into his head, right? </p><p> </p><p>He stared at her, looking bewildered for a moment before he raised an eyebrow and a cocky grin spread across his face. </p><p> </p><p>She backed off then. </p><p> </p><p>That certainly wasn’t the response she wanted. So she focused her attention back to the knife. </p><p> </p><p>“Come on. What’s it for?” <em> Again trying to save herself… from herself. Shit. </em></p><p> </p><p>“Oh happy dagger!” Benny crooned as he unsheathed the blade. <em> He was giving her an out, phew. </em> “Come on, <em> Romeo and Juliet </em>. No? Not a fan?” He held the blade pointed toward his heart like a mock Juliet. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m more of a <em> Macbeth </em> girl. You know, a dagger of the mind. A false creation.” </p><p> </p><p>“Of course you are.” He said pointing the tip of the knife at her. </p><p> </p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean.” She said in a flat voice. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s so much darker. Trickier. Like you. Like your chess.”</p><p> </p><p>“What? You’ve read a few biased articles and think you know me? Besides, there’s <em> nothing </em> dark about two teens who off themselves!” She said sarcastically.</p><p> </p><p>“Fair, fair.” <em> Could he stop pointing that knife at her? </em> “But <em> Macbeth </em> is about power hungry kings and isolation. While <em> R&amp;J </em>’s tragedy comes from their attempt at unity.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you trying to out-Bard me, Watts?” His know-it-all tone was utterly annoying but Beth couldn’t deny she was a little amused by it right now. </p><p> </p><p>“Is it working?” He flashed a bright grin.</p><p> </p><p>Beth laughed then. An action she never thought possible in the presence of her rival. “It’s funny to talk about something other than chess with you.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s my point. Chess doesn’t have to be as solitary as you think. Come and hang with us some time. We won’t try to steal your secrets.” He sounded genuine but he knew too much about Shakespeare to be a hopeless actor. She still wanted to keep him at arm’s length.</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm.” said Beth trying to avoid the invitation. </p><p> </p><p>“Is this how you plan on winning?”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“By pushing everyone away.”</p><p> </p><p>“I resent that.” She said in a wounded tone. “For your information, I was just practicing with Harry Beltik before I came up here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Who?”</p><p> </p><p>“Former Kentucky champion.” Beth said exhaustedly. “Though I took his title a few years ago. I <em> know </em> you know him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right. The guy you should’ve castled against. Well he’s not very good, is he?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Did he get off on being this condescending? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“You’re being very sour. I was having a perfectly good time with my friend Benny” She tapped the photo on the cover of the book, “before you came and spoiled it.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re something else.” He was grinning again and Beth’s stomach did a flip. <em> Did his hair always fall in his face like that? </em>With some effort she dragged her eyes away from it and back to the book.</p><p> </p><p>“Shh,” she placed a finger over her lips. “I’m trying to read.”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, alright. I’ll leave you alone. Even though you clearly wanted me to come over here.” He rose from the couch and stood in front of her, hands in his pockets.</p><p> </p><p>“Because everything is about you isn’t it, Watts?”</p><p> </p><p>“Even that book.” He winked at her before turning on his heels and walking out of the common room. Not looking back. </p><p> </p><p>Beth watched him until he was gone. Filled with a weird mix of indulgence and self-loathing. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Could she really be attracted to Benny Watts? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>How is it that she came down here to get in his head and he managed to get in her’s? She wanted to erase every image of his hair from her memory so it couldn’t have any more power over her. </p><p> </p><p>She looked down at the book in her hands and promptly flipped it over. Just his photo made her feel dirty. Like she needed another shower. </p><p> </p><p>A cold one. </p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>Beth descended the stairs of the dormitory and headed towards the dining hall, mug in hand. She needed coffee to get her through a third day of uninspiring chess.</p><p> </p><p>“Harmon. Harmon!” Beth turned to see Benny Watts getting up from the bench outside the hall and walking toward her. <em> Had he been waiting there for her?   </em></p><p> </p><p>“What do you want now, Watts.” Beth said as she pulled out her sunglasses and placed them on her face.</p><p> </p><p>“Well if you’ve finished my book, I have something else you need to read.” She hadn’t broken her stride and he was jogging slightly as he caught up to her. “Seriously. You’re going to want to take a look at this.” Benny held up a paper in front of her face.</p><p> </p><p>“Why would I read some silly Ohio college newspaper?” It was early and Beth was tired and uncaffeinated. </p><p> </p><p>“Come on, amuse me.” It seemed like there would be no other way to shut him up, so she snatched the paper from him as they walked. “Page six.” He said, leaning over her to flip the pages. </p><p> </p><p>“I can do it.” She grumbled, pushing him off. </p><p> </p><p>What Beth saw on page six shocked her. She stopped in her tracks. Mouth agape. She lifted her sunglasses to rest on her head as she leaned into the page in horror. Eyes wide. </p><p> </p><p>Right there on page six was an article titled <em> Queen Takes King </em>. A short blurb was accompanied by a photograph of Beth and Benny on the common room couch from the night before. But the photo didn’t capture Beth and Benny simply speaking on the couch. No! Why would it! Since these reporters are obviously snakes.</p><p> </p><p>The photo captured the split second where Beth had leaned over Benny to reach for that ridiculous knife. But since she used her right hand to reach over him most of their bodies were obscured. And the focal point of the image was Benny’s usual cocky expression and what appeared to be… her hand on his thigh. <em> DAMNIT </em>. </p><p> </p><p>“What. The. Hell.” The picture was like a train wreck, it was atrocious but she couldn’t peel her eyes away. “You’re fucking with me, Watts.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, if it’s in the paper it must be true.” He chuckled. “And besides, the article clearly says <em> ‘Queen </em> Takes <em> King </em> .’ If anything, <em> you’re </em> fucking with <em> me </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Beth looked up at him and was shocked again to see that he was smiling. <em> Actually smiling </em> . Was her life, <em> her reputation </em>, just another game to him? </p><p> </p><p>“Are you trying to psych me out? This is such bogus and you know it.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t need to psych you out to win. Besides, <em> you’re </em> the one groping <em> my </em> thigh, Harmon.” </p><p> </p><p>Beth was appalled. “We both know there was no groping.”</p><p> </p><p>Benny shook his head, still grinning, and pointed a ringed finger at the picture. The photo really was borderline obscene. <em> How could they even publish something like this? </em> </p><p> </p><p>“A picture says a thousand words. And this picture… Well, I think at least nine hundred and ninety nine of those words would be something like grope. Fondle, perhaps. Feel up, that’s two!”</p><p> </p><p>Beth's hands tightened into fists and her mouth formed a hard line. “Why don’t you go and frame it then, Watts. Now if you'll excuse me I need a coffee before today’s matches begin.” She pressed the paper to his chest as she brushed past him. </p><p> </p><p>But the damn cowboy wouldn’t leave her alone, he was jogging again to catch up with her. “I’ll join you, the dining hall is right here and I could use a cup.” She kept her eyes ahead, and pulled her sunglasses back down over eyes. “Come on we look good! I mean, if any photo is going to scandalize the chess scene then at least it’s a good one.”</p><p> </p><p>“Unfortunately, just my existence is enough to scanaladize the chess scene.” Beth said as they entered the dining hall and headed towards the coffee pots. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe last night she had decided that Benny was, in fact, good looking. But that was purely objective. Just something about the way his hair fell into eyes. It was clear to Beth now that this realization had nothing to do with his character. </p><p> </p><p>“Come off it.” But Beth ignored him as she reached for the coffee pot. “I just showed it to you for a laugh, Harmon. I didn’t mean to upset you. I can’t see why it’s such a big deal.”</p><p> </p><p>She spun around to face him, coffee pot in one hand and mug in the other.</p><p> </p><p>“Because when I beat you tomorrow, and I will—” She added when he raised an eyebrow. “I want everyone to know it was a fair game. And you didn’t just let me win because of chivalry or some shit.” She was getting heated now. “My whole career I’ve been asked again and again what it’s like to be a woman in chess. As if I’m some sort of alien in uncharted territory. Can you even imagine what that’s like? It’s as if the only interesting thing about me is my sex. Nearly the entirety of my <em> Times </em> article focused on my gender rather than my chess. Imagine if <em> The Times </em>wrote pages about your hat and never mentioned your endgames.”</p><p> </p><p>Benny was left in stunned silence, so she continued. “No. You can’t imagine it. Because they’d never even dream of doing that to you. And you shouldn’t have to, but neither should I. Yet I must. And shit like this is going to follow me around just like the designer clothing comments. But you’ll walk away unmarked.”</p><p> </p><p>“Beth.” She looked up at him from her trance, startled by the sincerity in his voice. He’d never called her by just her first name before. “Beth, I’m sorry.” </p><p> </p><p>She was still staring at him, feeling dazed. He reached forward to grab the coffee pot from hands and poured some into her cup. He put it back on the burner and motioned for her to follow him to a table.</p><p> </p><p>“They never even mentioned how I played the Sicilian.” She said in a small voice as they sat down. “But they didn’t fail to mention my wardrobe. It made me look <em> pathetic </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Why was she opening up to known narcissist Benny Watts?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“You couldn’t look pathetic if you tried. Fuck the reporters, okay? And their fucked up double standards. They’re the pathetic ones.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And why was she actually starting to feel better…  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“They don’t respect me. I’ve tried to make my peace with it but obviously it annoys the hell out me. And pictures like this don’t help. All I can do is what I’m good at: chess.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well then chug that coffee and let’s go play some fucking chess.” When Beth looked at him grinning she couldn’t help but smile too.</p><p> </p><p>They walked to the lecture hall together in a comfortable silence and Beth tried to concentrate on her games ahead. But when Benny pulled open the door every pair of eyes was locked on them.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my god. They all read that stupid article. They all think we’re sleeping together.”</p><p> </p><p>She turned in shock to Benny and was surprised to see him smiling, chewing on a toothpick. <em> Where the hell did he get a toothpick? </em> And why couldn’t she take her eyes off it. Or his mouth… </p><p> </p><p>He waved his hand in front of her face. “Hey. Earth to Harmon. You’re not doing much to dispel the rumor.” </p><p> </p><p>“Maybe we shouldn’t have walked over together.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know it’s wrong and all but… it’s <em> kind of </em> hilarious. Come on. Look at them! I think they’re actually <em> more </em> afraid of you now. And maybe me too, by association.” </p><p> </p><p>Beth scanned her eyes across the sea of terrified boys. “Okay… it’s <em> a little </em> funny.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey! There’s a smile, kid. Now go kick some ass or I won’t be able to kick yours in the finals.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah right.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’d ask for a good luck kiss, just to really make them really lose their heads, but—” He pointed at himself with a smirk and a silent laugh as if to say <em> I’m Benny Fucking Watts for God’s sake. </em></p><p> </p><p>“But I don’t need luck. Obviously. Catch you outside, Harmon.” </p><p> </p><p><em> What a prick </em>, she thought. But as she walked in the opposite direction towards the stage she could feel the burn on her cheeks. All because of that stupid word.</p><p> </p><p><em> Kiss </em>.</p><p> </p><p>Yeah. Her attraction was objective, she told herself. <em> Completely </em> objective. Nothing about his self righteous, cocky attitude made her feel anything at all. Absolutely nothing… </p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>When Beth woke up the day of the next day she briefly forgot the events of the previous night. It was that magic, dreamy moment between sleep and wake. She laid peacefully in Alma’s housecoat, tucked under the covers of the small twin bed of her Ohio dorm. Tucked away from the world. Blissfully unaware for just one moment of how much of an utter <em> failure </em> she was. </p><p> </p><p>When she remembered she didn’t open her eyes. She untangled her arms from the covers and pressed the heels of palms into her eye sockets. <em> Losers don’t deserve to see the sun, </em> she thought. </p><p> </p><p>It was her day off. No games until tomorrow. Where she and Benny would face off for the title.</p><p> </p><p>The same Benny Watts who robbed her blind the night before. Of her money. Her confidence. Her dignity. Even her sanity it seemed. <em> What the hell was she going to do? </em></p><p> </p><p>She reached for the tranqs and faded away for a while. </p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>When she laid back in her bed that night she felt considerably better than in the morning. She’d taken a walk for some fresh air to clear her spiraling thoughts and — shockingly — the very person who had riled her up was able to calm her a bit.</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘You’re the best player here’ </em> repeated again and again in her mind. </p><p> </p><p><em> Could Benny really believe that? </em> </p><p> </p><p>She closed her eyes but sleep was difficult to find. It was agony to rest when the game lay so near. Playing Benny again would be the only thing to completely put her thoughts at peace. She wanted a <em> real </em> game. None of that speed chess bullshit.</p><p> </p><p>Beating him? Yeah, she’d prefer that.</p><p> </p><p>But playing a fair game against an equally talented player— </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> one who’s smirks made her stomach flip </em>
</p><p> </p><p>— was going to be fun. Actual fun. Like spa-day-with-Alma kind of fun. Because maybe Benny was a rival this week, but he also seemed to want to be her friend. </p><p> </p><p>Beth could use a friend. And his hair wasn’t bad either.</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>When Beth walked into the lecture hall Benny was already on the stage. Not sitting on one the chairs around the chess board, <em> no </em> . Not like any <em> normal </em> person would be. </p><p> </p><p>Instead he was sat on the edge of the stage kicking his legs up and down like a child. He was talking enthusiastically to someone in the first row, his hands waving all around. Beth guessed that this someone had to be another reporter by the pen and notebook. Leave it to Benny Watts to fill every waking minute talking about himself. </p><p> </p><p>Hopefully he was at least making himself useful by dispelling those rumors. Beth didn’t have time to ask though, because as soon as stepped on the stage the officials were ready to get the game started. </p><p> </p><p>Benny didn’t say anything. He stood up and tipped his hat as a form of greeting, she nodded back. Then they stood across from each other, shook hands, and the game began.</p><p> </p><p>Twenty-something moves in and Beth switched queens. Then she began to move into check. She looked up at him with a smirk. But Benny didn’t see her. His gaze was glued to the board, his eyes darting across it manically. Trying to find a way out. It was over, she knew it. And he was slowly coming to that realization as well.</p><p> </p><p>She even thought she saw a bead of sweat near his temple and the brim of his hat. She was watching it when he spoke, interrupting her thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck.” He said under his breath weakly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” </p><p> </p><p>He was quiet for a long minute. Beth tried to breathe quietly, waiting. She had never seen him like this.</p><p> </p><p>“We should have bet before.” He said suddenly. Quick and sure, like the Benny Watts she recognized. “You could have made all your money back.” He smiled then, it looked forced but Beth was happy to see he wasn’t too upset. “I resign, Harmon. Damnit.” </p><p> </p><p>He stuck out his and she took it, and the small audience began to applaud. The pair rose and stood in front of the board, a standard photo op pose. Then Benny turned his head slightly so his hat covered his face from the cameras. </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck. You.” He mouthed silently to her through the same forced smile. Beth tried but just couldn’t keep her laugh in. It was soft but genuine.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you always laugh at the suckers you demolish? Damn, that’s cold. I’m out.” But he winked so only she saw and exited the stage so the cameras could capture Beth alone. A small photoshoot and interview with the winner was standard for a tournament like this. She tried to pay attention to the flashes but she couldn’t help but follow Benny’s figure as he walked across the hall, hands in his pockets… </p><p> </p><p>It took all but twenty minutes but Beth was still glad to be out of there when it was through. This match had taken place later in the day than the previous ones and the sun was beginning to set.</p><p> </p><p>She walked outside and saw a long figure laying on a bench near the door, a wide brimmed hat over his face.</p><p> </p><p>“A siesta? Really, cowboy? Don’t tell me you’re exhausted after such a short match.” Beth said as she approached, poking at his shoe as if to wake him.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not tired.” He said pointedly, sitting up and adjusting his hat. “Just didn’t know how long our champion would be detained.”</p><p> </p><p>“I tried to get away from them as quickly as possible.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yea. You’re more of an introvert aren’t you. I can never tell what you’re thinking.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you believe you can tell what all other people are thinking?”</p><p> </p><p>“Other people usually say what they’re thinking.”</p><p> </p><p>Beth didn’t know if that was exactly true. She knew she was a private person. But she’d never stopped to consider if she was drastically more private than most. She had secrets, but didn’t everyone? </p><p> </p><p>“See?” He said in response to her silence. </p><p> </p><p>“Hmm.” She hummed quietly, <em> maybe he had a point. </em>But she wouldn’t think too hard on it. Benny seemed to like to phrase any random thought he came up with as a fact. </p><p> </p><p>“I told you so, by the way.” He said smugly. “I told you that you were the best player here.” </p><p> </p><p>Beth’s mouth fell open, <em> how could anyone be THIS conceited </em> . “How is it that <em> I </em> win, the U.S. Championship no less, but <em> you’re </em> still the one who’s right?”</p><p> </p><p>He stood up with a boyish grin plastered across his face. “I’m always right, kid. Get used to it. Now come on. Drinks on me. I recently came into some cash.”</p><p> </p><p>“Remind me not to play speed chess with you again.” She said as they began to walk through campus. </p><p> </p><p>“How will you get better?” He said honestly, throwing Beth for a moment. “Losing sucks but it’s the best way to learn. You lost in Vegas and just look at your comeback tonight. And you think I won’t try harder than ever to beat you again now that I lost?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hm. Maybe you’re right.” She said tentatively.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Why was he giving her advice?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Like I said, get used to it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh shut up, Watts.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you two always fight like this?” A third voice asked from behind. “The flirty banter. Is this like your guy’s thing?”</p><p> </p><p>Beth whipped around. “<em> Excuse </em> me?” </p><p> </p><p>The short man was clutching a notepad and pencil. </p><p> </p><p>“So you wrote that nasty article, huh.” Beth said matter of factly as she crossed her arms over her chest and looked down at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you, like, hold hands under the table? Or anything cute? I need something to make this article pop.” The man was already rapidly writing on his notepad.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you close your eyes for the entire game?” Benny was raising his voice now. “We were on a stage, you idiot, you could clearly see under the table.”</p><p> </p><p>“Actually I like to take my foot and kick him in the balls. Is that cute enough for you?” Beth said with a fake smile.</p><p> </p><p>Benny doubled over laughing at that, which made Beth let out a breathy laugh as well. </p><p> </p><p>“Alright now, don’t undermine your talent, Harmon. She won fair and square, don’t write about anything but that.” Benny waved a finger at the little man.</p><p> </p><p>“Is this some kind of humiliation kink.” The reporter tilted his head, confused. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay, okay. This has gone too far. I’ll give you $50 to pull the article from the other day and scram.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, I got a lot of requests about a follow up to that piece, I got offered $100 for the photo alone.”</p><p> </p><p>Benny pulled out his wallet. “Here’s $200. I want the photo destroyed and removed from any later editions.”</p><p> </p><p>“And what if I take the money and run?”</p><p> </p><p>“You realize I have a knife, right?” Benny said as he pulled back his leather trench to reveal the blade.</p><p> </p><p>“Right. Uh. Thanks. For the cash. Mr. uh… Watts.” The man snatched the bills from Benny and took off in the opposite direction.</p><p> </p><p>“So is that what the knife is for?” Beth said looking at Benny. “Fending off shifty reporters.” </p><p> </p><p>“It is now. If you plan on making the news a lot. Just make me a list of the reportes you need off’ed. By the way, think you can cover the drinks?”</p><p> </p><p>Beth laughed as Benny held the door to the bar open for her.</p><p> </p><p>“After you, Miss U.S. Champion.”</p><p> </p><p>Beth’s cheeks burned but she didn’t mind so much anymore. Fine. Maybe she liked him. To hell with the rivals bullshit. Because maybe, just maybe, he liked her too. And they could be okay.</p>
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